


Close Your Eyes, Listen To The Music

by elfin



Series: A Little Less Conversation [3]
Category: Stan Lee's Lucky Man (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 08:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfin/pseuds/elfin
Summary: Extreme measures are needed to keep them safe.





	Close Your Eyes, Listen To The Music

**A Little Less Bark, A Little More Bite.....**

 

A week later it was agreed that Alistair could be moved out of ICU.

Harry made a fuss, then got the Chief Constable to make a fuss, and the hospital agreed to a private room with the armed guards to remain in place. Harry grudgingly agreed to go home, shower and change. He drew the line at getting some sleep in an actual bed. That was too long to be away. There’d been no sign of Isabella, not at the hospital, not at Alistair’s place which they had under surveillance just in case, not at the ports and airports. Then again, she was never going to be seen if she didn’t want to be.

Still, the knock at the door of Rich’s flat just as he was pulling off his socks made him jump.

‘Eve.’

He let her in and she hugged him tight. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Sorry…?’

The expression on her face was heartbreaking. ’About Alistair. I know the two of you were close.’

‘Oh, No. We lied to the press. He’s okay. It was touch and go for a couple of days but they’re moving him out of ICU today.’

She took a deep breath, relaxed, relieved. ‘Thank God. Was it Isabella?’ He nodded. ‘Harry….’

‘I need to end this.’

‘We need to end this. She’s dangerous.’

‘I think we’ve established that. We need to even out the odds.’

Eve stepped back, put her hands in her leather jacket’s pockets. ‘There is one obvious way of doing that.’ Harry knew what was coming before she held it up. There was a part of him screaming not to be that stupid, not to risk everything because the luck had to balance out and the people he loved had already paid such a high price. But there was the other part, the part that felt defenceless, the part that was battered and bruised after the fight in the boxing club. The part that wanted to protect his family. His lover.

He nodded, and held out his wrist.

.  
.  
.

Harry didn’t like the idea of using Alistair as bait but they needed to draw Isabella out. Eve started a rumour that news of DSI Winter’s death had been greatly exaggerated. She started it in all the places Isabella had connections to. Then they relaxed the security around him and waited.

The beds were slightly bigger in the private rooms, and there were less wires. Alistair’s vitals were being monitored manually on a four hourly basis rather than electronically around the clock. On the first night, Harry discovered this mean he could lie on the very edge of the bed and let Alistair sleep with his back against him, protected and loved. The nurses weren’t happy with him, but Harry didn’t care. 

On the third night, when the door opened with a quiet catch and Isabella stepped into the dimly lit room, Harry was there, awake and alert, gun in hand, pointed directly at her.

He whispered, ’Come any closer and I will shoot you in the head and smile while I do it.’

He had the element of surprise, although she didn’t show it for long. The fact that he was alive, which Alistair had kept from her, plus the bronze glint of the bracelet back around his wrist. Both things put her on the back foot.

‘Harry.’ She sounded genuinely relieved to see him but he knew better. ‘I’m glad he’s not dead.’

‘No, you’re not. What you did was cruel, heartless.’

‘He was going to come after me.’

‘And what chance would he have stood? You could have disappeared and we’d never have found you.’ Alistair shifted against him, drug-induced sleep disturbed by the noise. Harry deliberately leaned down, kissed his hair just above the dressing. 

‘You know… you don’t stand a chance of hitting me.’

‘You might be stronger than me, but you tried to kill him and I for one love him, even if you never did. So I would say I’m more motivated than you are.’

The manipulation in her smile made him wonder how he could ever have been attracted to her. ‘You can’t kill me.’

‘Maybe not.’ He smiled, really feeling it this time. ‘But she’s going to give it a go.’

The needle slid into Isabella’s neck before she even knew Eve was there.

 

 

**...A Little Less Spark, A Little More Fight**

 

Harry hopped from foot to foot when Alistair searched through his keys to find the right one. It was a cold morning. ‘Whenever you’re ready. I’m freezing my balls off out here.’

‘Sorry. It’s been a while. Ah!’ The key turned and immediately the alarm started its countdown to screaming. For a moment he wondered if Alistair was going to remember his alarm code or if they were going to end up having to explain to the local security firm why they were breaking into the DSI’s own home. The beeping stopped with a reassuring, melodic sound.

Harry waited until it was off before following him inside. ’You know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually been to your - Jesus!’ They were in the hallway, facing into a beautiful ground floor kitchen, all slate and steel, glass and wood. ‘Is there something you want to tell me? Maybe a successful bank heist somewhere in your past?’

‘My family wasn’t… badly off. My parents died a couple of years back and I’m the classic example of an only child. This is what three million in Camden Town gets you.’

‘Jesus Christ. It’s gorgeous.’ Between the light, open plan kitchen and the split-level lounge, wooden stairs led up to a bedroom Harry was hoping contained a huge bed and a en-suite shower big enough for two. ’You do well at keeping this quiet.’

‘You can imagine the rumours if I didn’t.’

‘No one is ever going to suspect you of being a bent copper.’

‘They might, once it gets out that I’m shacked up with you.’

Harry turned from where he was gazing up the stairs. ‘What? No, that’s not….’

‘Not what? You can’t live with your brother indefinitely, especially not given he’s sleeping with your partner, one of my officers. That’s frankly more than I want Suri knowing about my sex life, and way more than I want to know about hers.’ He had a good point. 

‘The insurance on the apartment came through weeks ago. I just need a chance to find someplace else. I’ve been a little preoccupied recently.’

‘Harry-‘

‘I’m serious.’

Alistair leaned against the island off-centre of the kitchen. ‘I’m not proposing, Harry. What you and I have works well.’

‘What you and I have is based on a shared love for a woman who turned out to be a psychotic killer.’ He watched Alistair sag against the work surface and was with him in a moment, one hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, that was a bad joke. Listen, you need to rest.’ Hesitantly, Alistair put one hand on his waist, and Harry gathered him up in his arms. ‘I never want to hurt you, and I end up hurting everyone I let in.’

With his head against Harry’s shoulder, Alistair laughed softly. ‘I think it’s a little bit late for that particular regret, don’t you?’

‘I don’t regret this, don’t ever think I do.’

Alistair pulled back until he was looking up at Harry. ’Then stay. At least until you find your own place.’

Harry nodded. ‘Okay. Thank you.’

‘You’d be doing me a favour….’ He took a deep breath. ‘Every time I close my eyes, I see her staring back at me; stone cold, just waiting for me to die.'

‘She’s dead.’ Harry cupped his hand over the dressing at the side of Alistair’s head. ‘She’s gone, I promise you.’

‘How can you be sure?’

Reaching into his pocket, Harry lifted out the other bracelet, holding it out in the palm of his hand. ‘She’s dead.’

.  
.  
.

His mobile lit up a moment before it started to ring. It took Harry a second to work out where he was. Alistair’s bedroom was a soothing mix of blues, uncluttered; kingsize bed and dark furniture, a deep carpet that was easy on the knees. Not that Alistair had been too steady on his feet last night, but there was time.

He lifted the phone from the bedside table and Suri’s name. Sliding out of the bed he found his way out onto the landing. 

‘Hello?’

‘Hi. Sorry to disturb you but we’ve got a shout. Can you come out?’ He hesitated, gazing back into the bedroom, at Alistair sleeping soundly in the devilishly comfortable bed he just wanted to crawl back into. ‘What’s the address?’

He didn’t want to just leave. In the kitchen he found a pen without opening too many drawers, but no paper. He took out his wallet to see if he had a receipt or something he could write on the back of, and something silver glinted in the corner, underneath a couple of notes. Reaching in with his index and middle finger, he lifted out the tiny cross on the silver chain. He’d forgotten about it. How the hell, he didn’t know. But with everything else…..

He left a note on the back of a coffee receipt, along with Alistair’s cross - the one he’d given to Isabella for some reason, moments before she tried to murder him - next to Alistair’s phone, and dragged himself away.

 

The scene wasn’t too far away; a townhouse on a quiet road in an expensive neighbourhood. The front door stood open and for a heart-stopping moment Harry was back at the house where he’d found Alistair dying at the base of the stairs. Red and blue light played across his face, just like it had as he’d sat there, shock and grief clouding his better judgement, almost costing Alistair his life.

‘Harry?’ Pulled back to the here and now he looked at Suri who was knocking on the window of his car. He opened the door. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes. Sorry. What have we got?’

‘How’s DSI Winter?’

‘He’s okay. The hospital released him this morning. He’s home.’

‘We heard. And I wouldn’t have disturbed you except, well, you should see this.’

He suddenly knew whose body was inside the house. He wondered where they were, what the significance of the place was. He was glad he didn’t know.

He expected something macabre, difficult to look at, but in the end Isabella had been placed on the bed, fully clothed and dignified, empty pill bottles on the sheets beside her, a half-empty bottle of very expensive gin on the floor, glass loose in her hand. Harry had no doubt forensics would match corroborate the suicide, that the contents of her stomach and the tox report on her blood would confirm she’d taken the drugs and the alcohol, laid down and died.

Harry felt a pinprick of grief until he closed his eyes and again saw the crystal clear memory of Alistair lying with his head bleeding, his ribs broken, brain swelling.

‘Bitch took her own life before we could charge her with attempted murder,’ Steve muttered from behind his shoulder. He glanced at Harry. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be. I wish we’d had a chance to bring her to justice but I guess this will have to do.’

There was nothing he could do here. Suri hadn’t brought him here to head up an investigation, she’d brought him here for closure. To know he and the boss were safe. She didn’t know Harry already knew, that he’d been instrumental in Isabella’s demise. He didn’t feel a stitch of guilt. This was the only way they were ever going to be free of her, free from constantly looking over their shoulders knowing if she chose to end one or both of them she could. It was luck that they were both still alive, Harry’s luck. He was getting stronger, more skilled at using the bracelet, but she’d had years of experience over him.

This had been the only way. 

He left the room, went back downstairs to where Steve was giving instructions to the coroner.

‘Harry.’ He stopped in the hall. ‘Listen… you and Winter…. I just want you to know, I’m good with it. I’m happy for you.’

‘We’re not….’

‘You don’t have to deny him to me.’

‘I’m not, I wouldn’t. But we’re not serious. Or maybe we are, but we’re not exclusive. At least, we haven’t been up to now. To be honest, I don’t know what we are.’ He hadn’t meant to say most of that. ‘Sorry.’

Steve was laughing. ‘Look, whatever you are, whatever the two of you decide you want to be, I’m - we’re - fine with it. What you’ve been through, what he’s been through…. It’s enough shit for one lifetime.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll finish up here. Tell him we’re thinking of him, that we wish him a very speedy recovery. Especially if his absence means you’ll be in charge again.’

‘Thanks a bunch.’ He squeezed Steve’s shoulder. ‘Good night.’

‘Night, Harry.’

.  
.  
.

Harry looked into beautiful blue eyes and wondered how the hell he got this lucky. With Alistair, at least, he was almost certain it was all on him and not on the damn bracelet. 

‘If we do this, we have to trust one another implicitly. We have to tell each other the important stuff. If this goes wrong, we could kill each other and you know that’s the absolute last thing I would ever want.’

‘I know. And we won’t.’

He looked around. They were in Alistair’s kitchen, bottle of wine open, three glasses untouched. ’Maybe we should have done this in a church.’

Alistair laughed. ‘I don’t think either us are ready for that.’

‘Still… this feels frighteningly like commitment.’

‘Well, like you say, it might be ‘till death us do part, but we’re not making any promises.’

Harry waited for him to meet his gaze. ’Are you absolutely sure about this?’

He nodded with a wry smile. ‘I’ve never been surer about anything in my life. Besides, I actually trust us to get this right.’ Harry saw him glance up at Eve as if looking for reassurance.

Her smile was bright, rare and genuine. ‘I think together you just might stand a chance.’

Alistair squeezed Harry’s wrist, then turned his arm over and nodded. Eve slid the bracelet on, sealing it in place. 

‘Done.’

Harry slid his hand down to wrap his fingers around it, Alistair doing the same around his. With their free hands, they reached for one another across the table, tangling their fingers. Eve picked up one the glasses and toasted them both.

‘Good luck.’

Harry sat back and reached for the other two, handing one over. ‘Cheers.’

Alistair clinked their glasses together, grinning, happy. ‘So, Vegas?’


End file.
